Hearts Without Chains
by Lizicia
Summary: 'You know, you didn't have to call me for this job, John. Carter and Shaw would've been more than sufficient.' 'I know.' Reese/Zoe, post 3x3, 'Lady Killer'.


**A/N:** Hello! So, I've never written for _Person of Interest_ but I love the glimpses we get of Reese with Zoe and so, last night's episode inspired me to try and explore a new fandom. This is a tag, so all spoilers abound from this point, and it follows immediately after Zoe leaves the bar.

**Disclaimer:** _POI_ belongs to Jonathan Nolan. _Hearts Without Chains_ is an Ellie Goulding song.

* * *

Zoe walks out to the street, vaguely aware of Shaw and Carter looking through the windows of the bar.

"John."

He glances up at her, seemingly just noticing her approach but she knows he saw her leave; nothing goes unnoticed by him.

"Zoe. Shall we?"

She smiles and slips her hand through the sling of his arm as they make their way through the still bustling streets of New York. It's a warm evening and she finds herself drawn to his presence even more than usually.

"So, that was interesting."

He doesn't offer a reply but Zoe knows he's listening to every word she says.

"I had no idea you had so many lady friends, John."

Now he smirks for a moment but then gives her a carefully emotionless look. "Harold is not a woman, Zoe. And neither is Fusco. Although he does have great sense of style."

She continues teasing him, decidedly ignoring his quip. "Well, there is Carter. And Shaw. Both strong, intelligent, capable women."

"That they are."

"Two beautiful women."

He doesn't reply this time but she knows that he knows exactly what kind of a game they're playing. Zoe's not the jealous type, not really, and there is nothing to be jealous of since John's interest in other women is practically non-existent anyway. But she loves to tease him and she knows he loves it too.

"You know, you didn't have to call me for this job, John. Those two would've been more than sufficient."

"We needed to even out the playing field, Zoe. How could we have known he would go for Carter?"

She smiles but a strange feeling washes over her, as if she actually did care and she decides to try a new, more neutral angle. "You do realize that there wasn't really any variety, right? I mean, maybe if one of us had been a blonde or a redhead but the three of us was basically overkill."

Despite the unofficial status of their relationship, she's come to like to keep him on his toes, to push him as much as she can because it's fun but tonight, there is an unfamiliar edge to her words and Zoe knows that if she can feel it, so can he.

"Are you saying you had something better to do?"

They reach her apartment building which gives him the opportunity to step closer to her and she can feel the heat emanating from him even though he doesn't touch her. She's ever so grateful for him turning the conversation away from where it was headed. This one, however, is a game they're practically turning into an art form and she enjoys it immensely.

"Oh, I don't know, John. There was a movie I've been dying to see or I could've re-organized my record collection. Or someone could've called me up with a fix. You know I can't be on your beck and call all the time."

Her hands find their way to the lapels of his jacket and she flattens them against his chest. This, too, is a familiar dance they're doing and she wants to see how long he can keep himself from touching her when she's the one to reach out. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees his hand clench into a fist on his side but he still resists.

"But I bet it _was_ fun for you, Zoe."

"I couldn't even use the taser you gave me."

He smiles at the memory of seeing that bright pink taser in her hands and her casual mentioning of it having been a gift from him.

"Shall I give you a gun for the next time?"

"A garishly pink one?"

"Well, you do like the pink."

She smiles and nods. "And I would prefer if you were the only one to know that. So, no more pink accessories, John."

Her hands slip onto his waist and grip the handle of the gun he's tucked into the waistband of his pants. "But you can always give me a gun."

He startles at first at her direct approach but then smiles. "You do realize we're standing on a street in front of your apartment building, talking about guns, right?"

"Do you object to any of those things?"

"I think we're awfully exposed out here."

"So you want to come up to protect my privacy?"

He nods thoughtfully, the expression on his face stoic and serious but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away.

"Definitely less exposure there."

She turns around and walks towards the entrance. She doesn't need to ask him to follow because she intuitively knows that he always will.

He's a quiet presence on the way up but she can guess his mind is at work, analyzing every corner, every turn, every sound. He's been here only twice before but Zoe's certain he would know how to escape in case of an emergency and would remember every person they come across on their way up.

When she unlocks the door and walks in, he closes and shuts it behind her. There's a practiced ease to their movements by now; she drops the keys in a bowl next to the door and takes off her shoes to quietly walk over the floor of her living room while he sits down on the sofa and waits.

And yet, for some reason, Zoe can't help but feel as if this night is in some way significant because it's not supposed to be. But their previous conversation rushes through her head and whatever she's been telling herself about being essentially unattached notwithstanding, an anticipation makes its way up from the soles of her feet, under her navel, and with a mad dash through her heart, reaches her head.

She walks right back to John and plops down next to him. Their eyes meet and he, too, seems to be captivated more than usually as his hand reaches out to brush a stray hair behind her ear. Out there, on the street, he had been casual and confident and everything was normal. Now it's as if this is the first time they've been alone anywhere.

"You know, when I said you could come up, I thought you got the hint of what that meant." She tries to fall back on their usual witty banter but it falls on deaf ears and she herself hears the hollowness of those words.

His hand cups her cheek in an action so intimate, so gentle and so unlike him that Zoe fears what he'll say next.

"Zoe. We didn't need you there tonight."

It's an odd statement and she takes a moment to get out of the zone they seem to have fallen into but once it hits home, her entire being tenses and she wonders if this is the end. So she steels herself for the worst.

"That is basically what I was trying to tell you, John." She tries to make light of it but his hand on her cheek won't let her turn her head and his eyes continue to bore into hers as the emotion in them turns into something she's never seen before.

"But I'm glad you came, Zoe. There is Carter and there is Shaw but neither of them is you."

"What exactly are you saying?"

Her voice drops to a whisper and she lets the magnetic look of his eyes reel herself in. The air around them hums with tension.

"I'm always glad to see you, Zoe. They're my friends but you..."

And the words fail him but she knows her face must betray what she's hoping for him to say, even if he doesn't know how to express it, even if she isn't sure what it is she's expecting of him. But it's something more than either one of them expected from their arrangement.

So instead, she leans forward and kisses him. And it's different than usually because there really is no motive behind it to further things along; instead she is slow and meticulous and he understands her need because it's the softest kiss she's ever had. He doesn't push her onto the sofa and she doesn't climb onto his lap like they normally would but it feels right.

When they break apart, she feels a flush come over her and it is almost mortifying; men don't have this effect on her. But the openness on John's face makes up for it and the smile he bestows upon her is honest.

"I'm glad I came too, John. It's nice to be needed once in a while."

Whatever reply he was ready to give her, dies, as his phone rings and he reaches for it.

"Harold."

He listens intently and Zoe watches the expression on his face morph from happiness into worry and then it's carefully blank.

"I understand. I'll meet you there in ten."

He hangs up and when he turns back to her, she's surprised to see the apologetic look on his face.

"I have to go."

She nods. "You know that it's okay, John. That's what we agreed on a long time ago." He's never apologized for having to leave and neither has she; the demands of their respective jobs are always greater than whatever else they have going on.

He stands and walks towards the door but halfway there stops and turns back around. "Zoe."

She lifts her eyes to his with a questioning glance. "You're always needed."

He walks away before she has a chance to react and as the door closes behind him, Zoe knows something has shifted.

* * *

**A/N: Eh, I don't know. How did I do?**


End file.
